


beyond repair

by zjofierose



Series: (every now and then) on my mind - Angstober 2019 [5]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Apathy, Character Study, Loss, M/M, Pining, Pre-Canon, Pre-Slash, References to Depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:20:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27427084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zjofierose/pseuds/zjofierose
Summary: "maybe it's too late"
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Series: (every now and then) on my mind - Angstober 2019 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1998550
Kudos: 19





	beyond repair

**Author's Note:**

> just a baby ficlet for a prompt from a 2019 Angstober list. originally posted as part of a multi-chapter ficlets collection; re-posting as a stand-alone.

After Sochi, Yuuri is aimless. He sits his finals and passes them; all he needs to do to graduate now is write and defend his honors thesis by March, but first there’s the Japanese Nationals. 

He bombs them. 

It’s not a surprise. He’s practiced - he doesn’t actually know how to  _ not _ practice, if he’s honest - but it’s like gravity is claiming back dues for years of defiance, like he’s traded in wings for sand. He flies home to Japan and washes out in front of a home crowd in what should be one of the most humiliating experiences of his life, but instead it just feels like an extended roaring in his ears.

He falls. He falls in practice, he falls in competition. He falls getting out of bed in the morning, falls when he trips over the lintel to the bathroom. Knowing it’s all in his head makes absolutely no difference.

His paper gets written because Phichit sits him down regularly and makes him do the work. Yuuri’s grateful for this; it’s not a good paper, but it’s good enough. 

In between bouts of paper writing, he goes to the rink. He has no classes this semester, so he may as well live there - what else does he have to do? Celestino’s keeping his distance; Yuuri feels bad about it, but he’s genuinely undecided about what to do next season, and Celestino knows it. He’s focusing on his other students instead, and Yuuri can’t begrudge him that, not really. He’ll still offer feedback if Yuuri asks, is as open to talking as always, but Yuuri’s not there yet, can’t bring himself to imagine what it looks like to end his career any more than he can imagine what it looks like to continue it. 

He watches Stay Close To Me. He saw it on tv when Viktor debuted it, of course, and at every competition in the fall, not to mention live at the GPF, but he hadn’t watched it since until he comes home one afternoon in early February, gets a yogurt, and puts it on YouTube on a loop. It takes three hours and six Yoplaits until he has every motion memorized; he dumps his spoon in the sink and rinses the yogurt cups for recycling, then goes to the rink.

Viktor is… Viktor is inhuman, Yuuri thinks as he closes his eyes and lets the opening chords echo through his mind. He’s not  _ actually _ , of course - Yuuri knows as well as anyone that Viktor was born (St. Petersburg, Christmas Day of 1989), that he sweats and bleeds (the time he fell at juniors when he was thirteen and cut his hand; blood all over the ice and he still came back to take silver), that he puts on his costume one leg at a time (this year’s GPF locker room before warm-ups, Yuuri had nearly died when he realized that what he was seeing was  _ Viktor Nikiforov getting dressed _ ) like everyone else does.

Still, Yuuri’s never felt further from Viktor in his life than he does as he works his way through the piece, flubbing the axel and changing the quads to triples because he can’t jump them. He’s a caricature, a funhouse reflection of Viktor’s grace and he knows it, but he hears the music change and settles into a spin, because what the fuck else can he do? This is all he knows - skating, and Viktor - and he has nothing else left.

He hands in his paper and gets his diploma, packs his suitcase and hugs Ciao Ciao and Phichit, promising he’ll let them know what he decides. He flies home to Japan and takes the train to Hasetsu for the first time in years, unable to decide if it feels more like he’s dreaming now or like he’s been dreaming for the past half-decade. 

He skates it for Yu-chan, because it’s all he has to offer. He’s fat and getting older all the time; he’s been gone for years and not kept in touch; he knows she’ll get it, though, that she’ll see past all that to what he’s trying to do. He takes off his glasses and moves to the center of the ice, closing his eyes and taking a breath.

The music in his mind starts and he begins to move, but the rushing of his blades against the ice only whispers in his ear,  _ maybe it’s too late, maybe it’s too late, maybe it’s too late _ .


End file.
